Fire Emblem Awakening: The Aftermath
by Nugginatorrrrr
Summary: After more than a year of searching, Robin is finally found. After being reunited with friends and family, it seems that all is well. However, a new evil arises within, and no one knows how to stop it. As the Shepards are picked off one by one, Ylisee falls apart. Will the kingdom live to see a happy ending? (First story ever, whoop whoop! I'll try to upload as much as possible!)
1. Awakening

A hand was on her shoulder. That was the first thing she was aware of. The world around her was dark, grim, but someone had placed their hand atop her shoulder. She willed her eyes to open, but they would not obey. She needed to know where she was, _who_ she was, but her memory brought her no answers. The hand shifted to the base of her neck, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch it. Who was on the other end, she did not know, but she was desperate for answers. Her brain was filled with thoughts, ideas, tactics . . . but she couldn't recall any of them. She knew she had a purpose, a role to fulfill, but she could not remember what it was. Her loss of memory made her feel useless, as if she couldn't do anything at all, and she hated it.

Suddenly, the hand was on her face, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Chills were sent through her body, and it was the only real thing she had felt other than the hand. Her brain was practically screaming by now: _Open your eyes, open your eyes!_ But no matter how hard she tried, no light came into view. It seemed she was doomed to an eternal blackness, stuck between the gray fog of consciousness yet at the same time on the brink of sleep.

"Is-is she . . . "

Her heart fluttered. She knew that voice, she knew it like the back of her hand. A face appeared to her mentally: A young woman, with a bright and vibrant personality, and a voice to match. She had adorable pigtails, and the most gorgeous eyes . . . Robin often found herself quite jealous of her.

 _Robin!_

That was her name! Not the bubbly pigtailed girl, no, her name was another. The name "Robin" was hers and hers alone. But what was the young woman's name? It was right there, pulling at the back of her mind. She knew it so well, had said it so many times, but what was it? Something like L-Lis . . .

"I don't know, Lissa."

Robin felt her body jolt: A quick, violent movement that reminded her of a creaky door slamming shut. The action was quickly followed by a series of gasps-three, she counted. The hand on her neck quickly shifted to the back of her head, and she felt another on the curve of her back. A voice began to call out words of caution, but they were quickly shushed by Lissa. She knew that the man who held her either didn't notice or didn't care. She knew these hands, had felt them intertwined with her own, had seen them wield majestic swords, and had known that they were the hands that held her now. She also knew the voice that belonged with those hands: A sharp and commanding voice, but gentle at times. She remembered his head full of hair, wild and blue, and how it felt wrapped around her fingers when she held him close. She remembered everything about this man: his hands, his voice, his hair . . .

And his name.

" . . .Chrom."


	2. The Aftermath

"Lissa, quickly!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Hurry, before she loses consciousness!"

Chrom watched as his little sister dashed to his side, staff in hand. Lissa held an outstretched arm over the body of the woman that laid in his arms, and with a small whimper, cast a steady, warm green glow over her. Chrom felt warmth seeping through her, and pulled the body closer to him. The staff added a sickly tint to her skin, and although he knew it was for the better, Chrom suddenly found himself impatient with Lissa's healing process. He watched as she moved with careful, tedious movements, and wondered how much longer she would take. Every second seemed like an eternity, and he could hardly stand it.

"Lay her flat on her back," she suddenly commanded. "It'll be easier to wake her that way."  
Reluctantly, he let Lissa guide the body out of his arms and onto the grass. He stood and watched from afar, studying the face he had searched for for so long. She seemed to be the same woman he remembered, although he knew in his heart that many things were different. For instance, the face that once bore creases and frowns after hours of planning strategic battle tactics would now bear the relief of knowing that the battle had been won, and that the continents were at peace. Chrom felt a smile creep across his face as he thought of all the things he would say to her once she awoke: All the traveling he had done, the peace treaties, the expansion of the kingdom. There was so much he wanted to say, where could he possibly start?

 _Oh, gods, where_ am _I going to start?_

He had always envisioned this day, the day where he would find her. He replayed this moment in his head every time he had the chance: On the field, in the camps, during training . . . everywhere. But now-now that he stood here, gazing upon her gentle face, her frail frame, the woman he had always called upon in times of need, the one he had gone to in times of hurt. The one he could confess anything and everything to . . .

He had no idea what to say to her.

As if to torture him, Lissa suddenly cried out. Chrom was pulled back to reality, and he was petrified. He watched as she began to stir: her hand twitched, her legs shifted, she tilted her head back in just the right way that made the single strand of hair that he had always adjusted fall into her eyes. She was gorgeous, he thought, and suddenly he forgot how to move, forgot how to speak, forgot how to breath. He had prepared for this moment for an entire year, and now he was more mindless than a Risen.

 _Gods, you cowardly dastard, move! Don't stand there like some bumbling idiot! Move, move, move, move . . ._

And he did, he realized. His feet were shuffling forward without hesitation, but it was not of his own account, he knew. Frederick was there, as always, propelling him forward, and before he knew it, he was standing over the body of the woman he loved. He watched as her lips parted, and shuddered as he heard a subtle gasp escape. Chrom suddenly wished he could bend down, scoop her up, and shield her away from the rest of the world. Even in her most vulnerable state, she still had him wrapped around her finger.

A harsh whisper came from over his shoulder, "Milord."

Chrom's heart skipped a beat as he came to the sudden realization that her eyelids were twitching. She would wake up any second now, and he still was at a loss for words.

 _Hey, Robin . . ._

 _Heeeyyyy, Robiinnnn . . ._

 _You haven't changed a bit . . ._

 _Hey, girl, lookin' good . . ._

His breathing became rapid, as did hers. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. After all this time, he still couldn't bring himself to-

"Milord, just say what's on your heart."

Chrom released a breath he had not been aware he'd been holding in. Frederick, ever loyal, ever faithful, Frederick, had said just the right thing. Again. In truth, if he were to say everything that was on his heart, then time itself would have to stop to allow him enough time to speak. But he didn't have all of eternity to talk, he had a matter of seconds. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Crouching down, he waited until her eyes fluttered open. Slowly, he reached out a hand and pushed back the strand of hair that had always fallen into her eyes. Her face met his at that moment, and it seemed that everyone else in the world suddenly faded away. Frederick, Lissa, Ylisee . . . all of it seemed to disappear. Nothing else existed in that moment other than he and her.

She managed to speak first.

" . . . C- . . . Chrom?"

Chrom felt his heart seize, and he leaned his face closer to hers.

"Robin, I-"

Then she keeled over and retched.


	3. How Long?

One hand was pressed into the ground, while the other clutched her stomach. She heaved and heaved, but it seemed that in her time away, she had consumed no food. She just sat, wretched noises escaping from her throat. She wanted it to stop, but her stomach forced her to stay on her knees and heave.

"Frederick, I think I went a little too far with the healing process." Robin heard a small voice say. She broke away from her retching long enough to see a wide-eyed Lissa, standing next to a concerned looking Frederick. Robin wanted to reach out, tell them that it was all right, that she was fine, but even the thought of trying to speak at this very moment made her feel infinitely worse. Instead, she put all her focus into stopping the fuzzy feeling in her stomach.

"Nonsense, milady. Just a bit shaken, is all." Frederick replied. Robin made a mental note to give him her thanks once she was fit to speak again. The last thing she needed was Lissa endlessly confronting her with apologies when there was no apology needed.

Suddenly, someone was pulling her hair back away from her face.

"Gods, Robin. Had I known the sight of me was _that_ repulsive, I would've stood behind you while you awoke."

Despite the circumstances, Robin found herself chuckling. Then her chuckle turned into a laugh, and before she knew it she was pivoting on her knee only to ram right into her jokester's chest. The force knocked them both to the ground, but she didn't mind. Robin wound her arms around his waist and pressed his body closer to hers, only to find that he was doing the same. The acidic feeling had faded, replaced by a new one. One that words of neither this planet or any other would ever be able to describe. Her laughter began take its effect on him, and his shoulders began to bounce with the same rhythm as hers. Together, they began to laugh until the rest of the world faded away.

"I see you're awake now," he said, brushing his lips against her ear.

She wove her fingers into his hair, the way she always did.

"Yes," she replied. "Yes I am."

His face was turned so she couldn't see him, but she knew he was smiling. She could _feel_ it. It made her smile, too.

"Chrom."

He turned his face to hers.

"Robin . . ."  
"Robin!"

Robin looked up to see two curly pigtails coming her way. Before she even had a chance to sit up, the girl was throwing herself at her. Robin was pulled out of Chrom's arms, but she accepted the new ones. She buried her face into the newcomers neck, and stood as she wept joyously into her own.

"Lissa! It's so good to see you!"

"Robin, I-I'm so . . . so s-sorry that I m-m-made you sick wh-when you woke up!"

Robin tried to calm the girl down, but it was no use. Lissa only kept crying, and when she tried to speak, it only came out as unintelligible nonsense. Nonetheless, it was good to see her.

"It is a pleasure to be reacquainted with you, Milady," said a voice from over her shoulder. Robin turned to see Frederick, head bowed and arm outstretched. "You have been deeply missed."

"Oh, well, thank you, Frederick," Robin accepted Frederick's hand and blushed slightly as he bowed even more. Afraid that his back would break, she excused him, and he set out to retrieve the horses (or, as he stated, "To call upon their steeds.") Lissa decided to go along with him, and Robin was guiltily pleased. Not only was she still a sobbing mess, but Robin also wanted some time alone with Chrom.

And apparently, he wanted time alone with her, too.

His arms were around her as soon as Frederick and Lissa were out of sight. He spun her around and lifted her up in the air, twirling her around as if they were participating in some wild dance, yet only the two of the knew the steps. She knew that if someone were to see them like this, they would never think of them as Yilsee's King and Queen. No, at the moment, she figured they looked like two star-crossed lovers in their mid-teens, with the way the were going about laughing and giggling and such. But, did it really matter what they looked like right now? She highly doubted it. Once her feet were back on solid ground, Robin grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and pulled him in close. Their lips met, and suddenly the world was fading away yet again, the way it always did when they were together. His hands found the hem of her shirt, and he let one arm wrap around her waist, while the other found its way into the space between her shoulder blades. Her hands moved off of his tunic and into his hair, and with what little space they had in between them, she closed the gap. There was nothing left between them, and that was good. She didn't want anything to come between them ever again. But soon, their need to breathe overcame their desire to kiss. They parted lips and stood in each other's arms for a few moments, not wanting to speak, not wanting to move, not wanting to break what was between them. But as time went by, Robin suddenly realized that there was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to ask. Tilting her head back, she looked into his blue eyes, still wide and wild from their previous actions. She shifted a hand from his hair to his face, and gently traced the outline of his lips with her thumb. A ghost of a smile began to spread across his face, and he turned his head to kiss her hand.

"I'd recognize that look anywhere," he said. Then leaning in close, he whispered, "You're thinking of something, aren't you? It's ok, you can ask me."

Robin leaned in even closer and whispered back.

"How long was I away?"


	4. Home At Last

The horse's trot swayed them back and forth, rocking them with a rhythm that reminded Chrom of a boat lost at sea, gentle waves quietly lapping at the stern. The sun had already begun its descent, and it cast a thin orange haze over the horizon, dotting the treetops with flecks of gold. Behind him, he heard the quiet _clack_ of hooves against the packed dirt, and the silent murmurs of a conversation between Frederick and Lissa. Beside him, he heard the faint calls and whistles of wildlife as the forest began to settle into its nighttime serenity. But in front of him, he heard the quiet breathing of Robin, and watched closely as she tried her hardest to feign sleep. With a sigh, he leaned forward and rested his chin on the top of her head, which rewarded him with a sound of discomfort and a slight pinch on the thigh.

 _How long was I away?_

"I knew you were awake," He said, dropping the reins and allowing the horse to free-trot along the trail. "You don't breath like that when you're asleep."

"Is that so?" She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. "Then how do I breath?"

"Like this." He leaned forward and quickly blew a small burst of air into her ear. She flinched away and laughed, turning to poke him in the ribs.

 _A year, four months, and three days._

"You'll have to be quicker than that." Chrom said with a smile, narrowly dodging her finger.

 _I've . . . I've been gone for more than a year?_

"Speed isn't what I need," she said, and Chrom was about to ask why until he felt something press into his side. While he had dodged her finger, he had completely missed the fact that he ran into her other hand. "Only multitude."

 _It hasn't been easy, believe me._

Robin squeezed her fingers once, but that was enough to send his nerves on a joyride. He jerked back, and would have sailed right off his horse had it not been for Frederick, who quickly strode up and caught him a moment before his head hit the ground.

"Thank you, Frederick," Chrom said as he shot Robin a look. He could tell she was trying her hardest not to laugh: her face was practically the color of Cordelia's hair. With a swift motion, he put both his hands on either side of her and squeezed, causing a sudden outburst of laughter from the both of them.

 _I'm sorry, I wish I could've done more . . ._

Frederick gave them a passive glare. "Milord, I know you two are excited, and you have my most sincere congratulations, but do try to make it home in one piece."

 _No, you did everything you could. Do not blame yourself for something you could not control, ok?_

Chrom and Robin composed themselves, but his arms stayed around her. That was right where they belonged.

 _. . . Ok._

"Oh, don't be so hard on 'em, Frederick. You know that you'd do the same thing if it were Sully."

Frederick's cheeks redend, and even in the coming darkness of the night, you could still see his face illuminated by the glow on his cheeks. Lissa began to chuckle and snort, which made all four of them laugh.

 _I've missed you, Robin._

"It's ok, Frederick, we know you mean well," Robin regained hold of the reins and passed them back to Chrom, who reluctantly removed his arms from her waist and accepted the offer. "Besides, I think it's time we go home."

Chrom smiled, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

 _I've missed you too, Chrom._

"Yes, yes it is."

…...

Morgan impatiently fiddled with the cover of his book. Lucina had requested to meet him in the library, but where was she? He hadn't the slightest clue, but once he found her, he was going to make sure to give her a piece of his mind . . .

"Morgan!"

Morgan bolted upright in his chair, nearly losing his grip on the book. "Lucina, where on Earth have you been? You call me in here to talk to me, but you don't even show up! Next time-"

Lucina tore a piece of paper from a notepad, wadded it up, then threw it across the room, hitting Morgan square in the forehead.

"Morgan, shut up!"

Morgan was about to ask her about what was so blasted important that she had to throw a piece of paper at him, but when he looked at her he realized he hadn't noticed the look on her face. There was a wild look in her eyes, but not crazy wild, like Tharja's. It was more of an excited wild, and suddenly Morgan was desperate to know what she had to say. She quickly came to sit on the chair across from him, and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Father sent me a note Morgan. A note requesting that you and I meet at this spot tonight, alone."

Suddenly, Morgan felt like he might explode. His Father, Chrom, would set out for weeks at a time, searching for his mother. He would always come back to report with Yilsse, but he's never sent a note before. Morgan's mind began to race with what this might mean.

 _Did he find Mother?_

 _Is he bringing her here?_

 _Is that why he requested Lucina and I alone?_

"Morgan."

Morgan returned from his thoughts and looked up at Lucina. Her face carried the same quizzical expression as his own.

"Morgan, do you think . . ."

"I don't know, Lucina, but maybe-"

"Ahem"

Lucina and Morgan jumped in their seats, and he was sure that they both nearly had a heart attack. Turning towards the voice, they saw their father standing in the doorway.

Alone.

"Oh, Father," Lucina's voice carried the disappointment that Morgan felt. "Don't scare us like tha-"

"Chrom, I told you not to do that!"

Morgan felt his heart leap. He and Lucina stood in unison, watching, waiting. Her hand came around the doorway first, then - almost shyly - she peeked her whole body into view. Morgan felt his throat closing up, and he could hear that Lucina's was doing the same as they both yelled.

"Mother!"


End file.
